Misery Loves Company
by ncfan
Summary: Sitting in a hospital waiting room is not the way Ishida wanted to spend his night. Sequel to 'Bitter Gifts'. Slight Ishida x Rukia.


**Characters**: Ishida, Rukia**  
Summary**: Waiting in a hospital waiting room is not the way Ishida wanted to spend his night. Sequel to 'Bitter Gifts'. Slight Ishida x Rukia.**  
Pairings**: mentioned: onesided Ichigo x Rukia, onesided Ishida x Orihime; slight Ishida x Rukia**  
Warnings/Spoilers**: None**  
Timeline**: sometime in the future; sequel to _Bitter Gifts_; occurs on the same night as _Bitter Gifts_**  
Author's Note**: Read _Bitter Gifts _first; this will make much more sense after that, I assure you.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

"Promise you won't leave?"

"Of course."

Personally, Ishida really doesn't want to stick around for the spectacle of what's going to happen next, but it's the look on Rukia's face that keeps him from balking. Her eyebrows crinkle up ruefully, and she can't keep nervousness from peaking on her pale cheeks; she's a little afraid, as much as she doesn't want to admit it. Ishida is just a little taken aback. He's always thought of Rukia as the sort of person who, if she is in pain, would prefer to suffer alone without an audience. _Of course, _he muses wryly, _she probably just wants someone to hold her hand, and I've gotten the short straw._

_Or to pull her hair back from her face._

Still, it's nice to feel wanted.

Sitting in a hospital waiting room at eleven at night is not what Ishida really wanted to do with his night. He wanted even less to possibly risk encountering his father by venturing into said hospital. But he really didn't have anything better to do, activity helps keep his mind off things, and after hearing Rukia's slightly dull call over the grainy telephone, his conscience would have given him no rest until he made sure she was alright, even if they aren't all that close.

According to the nurse who looked at Rukia, with a decidedly critical gleam in her eye, she doesn't need her stomach pumped (looking at Rukia's blanched, almost green face, Ishida tried to argue, but his words fell on deaf ears and Rukia was decidedly unappreciative of his attempts), but she's consumed enough alcohol that it's not considered advisable to send her home, and she'll need to take drugs to induce vomiting. Ishida's fairly certain that it's the last part that's making Rukia so nervous.

"Was it worth it?" The bite of annoyance seeps into Ishida's voice like the frost sparkling in intricate designs on the window, hard and snappish.

His voice is quiet, but loud enough that Rukia winces and holds up a head to rub her forehead, cringing all the while. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean by that. Was getting drunk worth it or was dragging you out halfway across town at night to pick me up worth it?" The alcohol in Rukia's system has now taken effect enough to give her a slight slur to her speech; her voice is almost nonchalant, if thick due to the pain of what is doubtless a hangover headache coming on.

"Both."

"Yes, they were both worth it."

Ishida sighs. "Somehow, I just _knew_ you were going to say something like that." He stares straight ahead and laces his fingers together, steeling himself for the uncomfortable question that, unfortunately, he has to ask. "So… Am I to take it that this was your first night doing this?"

Rukia tilts her head from side to side wearily; apparently he hasn't sent a shot of pain like lightning through her skull this time. "Getting drunk? Well, I have been drunk before; back in Seireitei, a long time ago. This is the first time in a while." Her bloodshot eyes shift to the floor. "I'd forgotten how bad I always feel afterwards."

No one ever remembers how bad the hangover feels afterwards when they have the good feeling on their mind. No one, Ishida supposes, ever remembers the price that ends up being paid when they are so focused and fixated on the means to forget everything. He has better ways than Rukia's drink; all he has to do is pick up the needle.

Through the haze and glaze of sake aftereffects in her eyes, Rukia picks up her head and smiles lopsidedly, caustic and self-disparaging, at Ishida and, somewhat uncertainly, returns the smile. They aren't terribly close, and unless Ishida's memory has failed him, he's certain that this is the first time he and Rukia have ever been alone together, but camaraderie comes through thick now as though it's always been there.

"Hey, Ishida? I've got a secret."

This sounds like the more stereotypical ramblings of a drunk woman, and Ishida can't help but feel apprehensive. But he sees no harm in letting Rukia blather. "Okay, I'll bite."

Her lips curl up in a slightly slackened smile. "I knew it was you I was calling. I didn't think you'd be really all that happy about it."

"What? Why did you call me then?" Ishida explodes, gaping incredulously at her, fury starting to bubble up in his throat.

If Rukia notices the rising anger in the boy sitting in the seat next to her, the only sign of her awareness that she gives is the rise of a hand to rub her temples. "Sado and Inoue both would watch me like a hawk until they were sure that I wasn't developing alcoholism. Ichigo would never let me live this down—" her face darkens bitterly "—and I just don't want to talk to him right now. I don't want to talk to him, see him, or even look at him from across the street. I knew you were the only I could call who would come pick me up and act like nothing happened later."

Suddenly, Rukia smiles smugly, teeth flashing briefly. "Second, you are painfully easy to manipulate."

"_What?_"

Rukia goes on in her explanation, smug smile never breaking. "Ishida, you are in possession of what is commonly known as a bleeding heart. Quite remarkable, actually, considering your outward personality; you were the last person I suspected to have one of those. If I called you over, your guilty conscience would _ensure _that you would make sure that I was alright."

Chagrin making his cheeks burn, Ishida tips his chin downwards and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Oh, my _God_." For someone who's not religious, he's been using the name of God in his sentences very often lately.

"Finally—" the smile fades from her face and Rukia looks more like her sober, solemn self, painting her face with neutrality "—I figured that you, of all people, might be able to understand."

Ishida blinks, and doesn't say anything.

Then, inexplicably, Rukia laughs, and it sounds so much like Orihime that it hurts.

She's not Orihime. She's too open, too brash, and Orihime would never _dream _of engaging in manipulation just to achieve her own ends.

It's a good thing Rukia's not Orihime. For one thing, the world can barely handle one Inoue Orihime; it would probably break and collapse in flames if it had to support two of them. And Ishida is just…_glad_ that he's in Rukia's company tonight and not Orihime's. He wouldn't be able to keep his composure if it was her.

"Kuchiki Rukia?" A nurse steps out of a side door, scanning the waiting room with searching eyes.

The green tint in Rukia's blanched face becomes considerably more prominent as she stands up. "Here goes nothing," she mutters.

Ishida's face is perfectly neutral as he stands behind her. "I was taught a war prayer by my grandfather as a child." He's careful to keep his voice perfectly even but somehow still manages to come off as sarcastically humorous. "I'll be reciting it mentally with you in mind."

At this, fingers so short they can barely wrap around Ishida's wrist tighten as Rukia drags him along with her, strangely strong for such a small woman. "Oh, no. You are _not_ bailing out on me now. Come on, Ishida."

"Did I say I would?"

"No, but I'm not taking any chances."


End file.
